


To Never Again See the Sun

by Retro_Seven



Series: Cult of the 14th [1]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Angst, Bad Ending, Blood, Child Abuse, Gore, life being unfair to Allen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-30 02:42:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10867368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Retro_Seven/pseuds/Retro_Seven
Summary: Neah's homecoming came much earlier than what happened in the mangaReposted from my FF.net account





	To Never Again See the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Warning contain cursing, brutal violence, child abuse, gore, character death, and general life being a dick to Allen.
> 
> This is a repost from my ff.net. I've change some things here but not enough to change the story.

 

 

 

To Never Again See the Sun

* * *

It was early in the morning the sun hadn't rose, but the town square was bustling with carnies setting up tents for the day's work. A boy with auburn hair stood behind a wheel-barrel with an unfocused mind. He watched jaded as the other workers went about their business unaware or just uncaring of his presence.

Red felt that stinging sensation in his head again. For days now he had been getting weird pains- they felt different from headaches… For one thing he only felt it in his forehead and it felt like something was beneath his skin. He dropped the tarp and scratched his forehead furiously, but it did little to relieve the imaginary itch. Red yelp when a heavy foot kicked his back pushing him to the ground.

"What the hell?! What you doing dickin' around- GET BACK TO WORK!", it was Cosimov. Red gritted his teeth. The clown gave the child another kick for good measures before sauntered back to the tent unleashing his wrath at any unsuspecting carnies who was in his way. The boy hissed when he picked himself up as he clutched his tender side. He kicked the hay cradle next to him spooking the donkey that was eating from it, rage radiated and buzzed through his body. The feeling… was new, never had he been this mad. Never mad enough that he felt _homicidal intent_. He felt the incredible urge to bash Cosimov's head against the pavement until brain matter spills. The thought made Red nauseous. The stinging subsided and turned into a burning sensation.

"Whoa kid, calm down. Cig?", one the workers offered him a pack. He chuckled a bit amused by Red's situation.

"No!", Red snipped looking like an agitated cat.

"Whatever, get workin' before Cossie whacks you again.", the man walked away taking a deep puff of his cigarette. The boy picked up the tarp again hauling it on his shoulder.

* * *

It was nearing dawn and the circus was about to open in an hour, but Red felt exhausted. He slunk back behind a trailer hoping to not get spotted by a certain someone. He rested his head and let himself fall asleep.

Something was wrong with him, very wrong. He was having weird dreams about a boy. A boy, his twin and mother, and a wheat field. He played, laughed, and shared. The world was so inviting but unwelcoming to Red. Like it didn't want him there. The scene was spacious, idyllic, and peaceful, but it filled him with jealousy. It was an unfair reminder of his position in life. No safe space to go to, no one to love him, and he held no future. He tried to push these visions away but to no avail. Two nights ago he had another one of those dreams; the boy and his mother were talking, he was distressed, his brother was sick again and he was worried. The mother listened to his woes with a calm expression before telling him that it was going to be alright rubbing the child's back pacifying him. He looked like he was going to cry- but didn't.  Instead the boy leaned in and whispered in her ear, she mocked surprise and the two burst out laughing-it was too much for Red to witnessed, he jolted from his sleep. He awoke to find his skin ash gray. He screamed, but as fast as a heart attack the gray flesh turned back to a pale peach. He convinced himself that it wasn't real, that it was caused by the dim lighting and his eyes adjusting, but a gut feeling was telling him otherwise.

Today he only felt sensations- the smell of the mother's perfume, the texture of Cornelius, and the sound of laughter.

He opened his eyes staring out at the sky. The sun barely peaked through the building he drank up the warmth of the sun… just like what the boy in the wheat field would do. A sharp sting cut him off from his train of thought.

"Aruggh! NNNNNHG! Ouch…", he pressed his hand against his forehead as he breathed heavily. The intense pain faded after a few minutes. Red rubbed his head wondering what that was, he pulled his hand back but froze at what he saw. Blood. It was streaked across his palm.

The boy ran to a pail of water and saw in his reflection that his upper face was covered in blood and below the hairline was faint indications of- _something_. Of what Red couldn't tell.

He washed his face with the water and ripped a part of his shirt wrapping it around his head. He was back to work after that.

* * *

During the usual ruckus of the circus, Cosimov's cursing, shocked gasps from adult onlookers, and children's taunts, Red tried to ignore the pain and the visions. Anything but the pain and anything but the haunting smile of that boy. He tripped spilling Cosimov's equipment everywhere.

"Goddammit, you insufferable piece of shit!", the bastard clown slapped the back of Red's head.

"Pick that shit up!", the clown stormed off. Red quickly picked up the clown's possessions but he was missing one of his rubber balls.

"Yoohoo! Are you looking for this?", a voice called out. Red turned around and saw a girl who looked to be 6 or so years older than him holding up the ball. He meant to swipe it from her but she hid it behind her back. Red took note of her appearance, she was slim, with simple pale pink dress adorn with fabric flowers with a matching hat. The hat casted a shadow across her face disguising her features.

"Give it!", Red demanded wrinkling his nose.

"Don't you want to plaaaay~?", the way she said play was so slimy it honestly made the boy's skin crawl.

"No! I want you to give me the ball back! It ain't yours!", he made another grab at the girl again missing her entirely.

"That's no fun.", she said feigning disappointment. She stopped hearing something that Red didn't catch. She threw the ball unexpectedly giving little chance for Red to catch it in time. Before he could berated the little brat she was gone. He huffed. Stupid brat probably one of those spoiled rich kids, they were the type of kids Red despise the most.

"Red!", Cosimov yelled from behind the tent.

"Coming!", Red yelled back. He reached the tent giving the clown his box of equipment and in return Red was given orders to groom the houses before showtime. He walked out the tent and there she was, that girl, but this time she was with an older gentleman with a top hat. He crouched down to her as she leaned in whispering to the man beside her as if she was telling him a secret. The image of the boy and his mother popped into mind and the stinging came back, he ran to the stable averting his eyes away from the girl. He was heaving and very dizzy. He was about to wipe his face, but he notice his hand was gray. This can't be happening! What the fuck was going on?! As if he wasn't already enough of a freak.

"No! Go back-Go back!", he screamed. He grabbed the bucket of soapy water near by and scrubbed franticly trying to wash the gray away. He hiccuped and sniffled trying not to cry but it didn't work. He let out a pained wheeze before hanging his head in shame letting all his tears fall.

The gray retreated but it went unnoticed to the boy who's breaking at the seams.

* * *

The circus was in full swing meaning Red can finally take a break. Most people were inside the the tent being entertained by the performances while he was outside alone in the cold. He glanced at the sun again. It was high noon looking at the sun's position. He sighed as he felt like his energy was drained out of him. He closed his eyes again.

It was that boy again. What was his name?

"Neah!", the child who looked nearly identical to him yelled from a distance.

That's right. His name is Neah.

"Wait up Mana!", so that was his brother. Mana. Something deep inside him felt warm at the mention of that name. The two ran beside each other until they meet up with a group of older boys. He seen them before in previous dreams but never really took note of either their names or face, nonetheless he was still faced with the feeling of Deja Vu when seeing them. The oldest, Bennette, don't know how he thought of that name, said something about a racoon under the house and another boy dared Mana to go catch it. Neah was on the defensive telling them to quite it. And that when-

"Wake the fuck up!", Cosimov hollered as he slapped the zoned out boy in the face. It took Red by surprise and he fell on his bottom. Red whipped his bloody nose looking at the clown. That's when he took noticed that it was nearing evening. But how? Had he really been standing in the middle of the street dazed out for hours?

"Listen to me, Goddammit!", the clown kicked the boy's shin making him yelp.

"Clean the goddamn stage, you goddamn brat!", the man tugged at the child's shirt pulling him with him. Red tried to look at anywhere but Cosimov's stupid face. His attention stopped on a clown and his dog. Weird he hadn't seen them before. Maybe he's new?

"Here! I don't want to see you fucking around again! Do you understand!", the man stormed off. Normally Red would do what he was was told but something is urging him not to. Something was egging him to see the man and his dog. And he did just that, leaving the tent when the close was clear. He snuck closer and closer to the clown. He observed the aged clown intently. The man was playing fetch with the old, lazy dog. Each time he threw the ball it took a second for the dog to walk over and get it. He, unlike Cosimov, wasn't a jackass, he seemed nice and kind, and joyful. At least that's what the air around him is giving off. The clown stopped playing with his beagle and turned to face the boy.

"Well hello there".

"I-uhh", before Red gather his thoughts an intense burn ripped across his face.

"Man-na…", the words slipped out of mouth without his consent.

"Yes, that is my name! What can I do for you?", Mana asked gently. Red turned around and ran.

"Guess he was shy, What do you think, Allen?", the old dog gave a muffled and weak bark.

He can feel the makeshift bandage soaked with blood, the pain was only getting worse. He ran with no direction in mind until he bumped into the last person he wanted to see, Cosimov.

"What the? I thought I told to clean the stage!", Red just kept running and that infuriated the clown. He quickly grabbed his elephant cane and gave chase. He'll teach the kid a lesson about goofing off.

Red's vision began to blur and his skin felt like they're splitting apart. He turned at an alleyway, losing the clown temporarily. He began to stammer and dip until he fell on the floor.

"AURHHHHH!", he scream. Pain became his dominant feeling. His skin changed back to gray. He crawled farther away until he couldn't bare it. He huddled over and began crying again. He ripped off the gauze and blood dripped on the pavement.

"Ma-ma… Mana! Mana! Please help me. Ne… Neah, where are you?", He wanted comfort, he wanted the people from his dreams to be by his side to tell him it's okay. His skin pulled back even tighter. He sees a figure walking towards him. Who was he? He kinda looks like…

"Close your eyes, it's almost over soon you will never feel pain and loneliness ever again.", Red gaze towards the sky and saw the sun disappearing halfway in the horizon. He watch it dip out of existence providing no more of it's light and warmth.

His eyes slid shut one last time as the sensations of heat, thirst, and the smell of grass fills him.

.

.

.

Red laid there motionless as the stigmata took form on his forehead and his flesh turned fully gray. Minutes pass before Neah's eyes open, his eyes gold and wicked. He tried to get up but felt a boot come down on his chest.

"Thought you outsmarted me, huh?", Cosimov catches sight of those piercing eyes. The man froze at the child's appearance but resolved himself and made a swing, but Neah caught the cane and used it to smack the butt end on the clown's face getting the man off him.

"Why you!", Cosimov was about to punch the noah across the face but again Neah caught it. He gripped his hand tight and caused the skin and muscles to wither and deteriorate.

"AHHH! What are you doing?! Let go you monster!", He fell on his knees Neah grabbed the downed man by the throat and bashed his head against the wall in one brutal swing. It cracked his skull and killed him instantly.

The noah rummaged through his belonging looking for anything valuable. He found a wallet, business cards, balloons, and a compact mirror. Well that's interesting.  
He opened it and was a bit surprised to see what his new form looked like. He had the usual noah traits, like the ashen skin tone, the gold-yellow eyes, and the seven point stigmata, but his hair was a deep, dark auburn hair color, his face dirty, and he had the face of a child. He shouldn't be in a child's body-Allen should be reaching his 50's by now. But it doesn't matter (for now). He has a mission to complete.

"Enjoyed your sleep?", a voice called out at the end of the alleyway.

"Before you say anything, that man attacked me.", Neah said pointing at the corpse.

"Sure he did.", Cross lit up a cigarette.

"I held them back as much as I could.",the air becoming a bit too thick for either of them. They were coming for him.

"Then let's go", the two ran off just when portals began opening up.

The journey to Cross' hotel room from the edge of town was tedious and exhausting. While Neah washed all the dirt and blood off of him Cross was in deep thought. Despite himself he couldn't help but mourn the loss of the child. Yes, he was a street urchin, with no family, no friends, and would've probably amounted to nothing in the end-but God damn it all he was still a child who was never given the chance. Maybe in a different life things worked out better for the poor kid. He took another swig of wine. The sweet taste couldn't null the bitterness he felt.

"Next time we go out we're buying new clothes, because these ratty things will not do!", Neah declared.

"And this damn innocence is such dead weight! Why can't I move my arm.", the kid swung his left arm side to side. "I would have to figure out how to destroy it without awakening it.", dead silence filled the air.

"Hey what's up?", the little noah poked Cross' shoulder not-so-gently.

"Of all the people in the world-why him? Why a child?", Cross asked.

"It's… a complicated story. And even I don't have all the answers", the child-like noah sat on the chair across from the morose priest a little embarrassed when the table came to his upper chest, but the destroyer of time refuse to let that show.

"Then tell me, Neah.", Cross poured another glass of wine.

"First of all, have patience, I will tell you in due time. And second, call me Red."

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Based on fanart I drew of Noah!Red. http://retro-7.tumblr.com/post/155439378048/au-where-nea-awakened-when-allen-was-still-red
> 
> In this story Neah's noah power is the ability to decay, not canon but I just wanted to play around with some stuff. Meaning he can decay a living person to a corpse(quickly or slowly depending on his mood) or crumple new buildings into sand. If you have any critiques or suggestions feel free to tell me. :)  
> There is a sequel out called "Cult of the 14th". It's technically a continuation but you can view this fic as a stand alone and C14 as an optional sequal.
> 
> I'msupersorrythiswassodark


End file.
